Whack-a-Mommy

For those of you unfamiliar with the boxer breed, they are one big tightly-wound muscle with endless energy. Our boy is about 60 pounds. He has very good muscle tone and a hard head. I think the bone of his skull must be an inch thick. When we get home he jumps around like a pissed-off bull at the rodeo. Jump, jump, jump.

Last night I got home first and let Beo out and took care of a few things before I let him back in. My bag fell over so I leaned down to pick it up at the same moment my puppy concentrated all his strength into launching himself off the floor.

Head bone's connected to the face bone.
CRACK!
Mommy is seeing stars.

I had to put ice on my lip it hurt so bad and I was afraid it would swell. I ran my tooth through the skin of my lip. I tasted blood. I thought I was in big trouble (not nearly as much trouble as said puppy, who was by then cowering in a corner waiting for his doom). Okay, I cussed a bit and maybe I yelled. I did NOT kick the dog across the room, which was my first instinct, so I felt pretty good about that.

Beo lowered his head and kind of crawled up to me, it was too damn cute to stay mad. He didn't mean to do it. Then Daddy got home and his guilt was all but forgotten. That little sucker jumped around and around again, taunting me. The urge to kick him came back, and yet again I refrained.

Damn dog.